


Batter Up, Stealing 5th, Deep into the Bench, & Other Baseball Puns: That Time Dean F*cked a Baseball Team

by judithandronicus



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2021 [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Attempt at Humor, Baseball, Blow Jobs, But not really crack?, Canon Compliant, Cartwright Twins, Character Study Gangbang, Crack, Gangbang, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Supernatural Kink Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29681016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judithandronicus/pseuds/judithandronicus
Summary: In medias fuck gangbang PWP wherein our heroic protagonist saves the day off screen, then quotes Heathers after a shitty allusion to Greek mythology while getting gangbanged.If you're looking for plot, this is not what you want.AKA: my take on the Cartwright Twins thing.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Baseball Team, Dean Winchester/Cartwright Twins, Dean Winchester/Original Male Character(s), Dean Winchester/Other(s)
Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111079
Comments: 14
Kudos: 74
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo





	Batter Up, Stealing 5th, Deep into the Bench, & Other Baseball Puns: That Time Dean F*cked a Baseball Team

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ahurston](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahurston/gifts), [NeelyO](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeelyO/gifts), [unkindravens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkindravens/gifts).



> Yeah, it is what it is.

It was _almost_ a milk run. Some penny-ante vengeful spirit causing a ruckus, throwing shit around an old house somewhere just across the border from Hansboro, North Dakota. A simple salt and burn, easy as pie. Send that sorry sonofabitch off to meet its maker before any other civilians got hurt, or worse.

If Bobby hadn’t been up to his eyeballs trying to figure out how to keep a teenage kid with a newly developed taste for long pig from going full-on monster, Dean wouldn’t have even been there. He hated having to sneak across the border. Goddamn Canadian spirit forcing him to leave poor Baby unattended, in a completely different country.

But saving people, hunting things, yada fuckin’ yada...

It ain’t like he’d gone out looking for trouble or anything.

Alright, well, technically he _did_ go looking for trouble, at least in the sense that he went to do his damn _job,_ which is, by its very nature, a big mess of trouble. Just…just not _this._ This was not what he expected when he made his way into Cartwright, Manitoba this morning.

_Fuck._

Dean groaned, his vision going more than a little fuzzy at the edges from the intensity of that last hard drive. That one knocked him off balance, had him scrabbling for purchase as he braced himself for the next hit.

Another deadly accurate thrust nailed his prostate and shoved him forward until he was inhaling pubic hair. “Hnnngh—“ was all he managed to choke out, what with his mouth full of the shortstop’s very much _unshort_ cock. If he had any braincells to spare, Dean would’ve giggled at his own really crappy joke, but he was a little preoccupied right now. But, if the way those thick, baseball-calloused fingers slid through his hair and tugged was any indication, shortstop appreciated his teammate’s assist.

The hands on his hips gripped tighter, the jagged, bitten off edges of fingernails digging into Dean’s sensitive flesh, and pulled back until only the head of his cock was still inside, and it was all Dean could do not to whine at the loss. That cock was perfect; it was thick and veiny and filled him up so goddamn good. He was maybe a little bit in love with it, with Mr. Perfect Cock, and needed it all the way back inside him, like _yesterday_ , and _Holymotherof…_

Dean did _not_ squeal as the dude with the perfect cock slammed back into him, pushing and dragging _just right_ against his prostate. Ground his hips all slow and dirty against Dean’s ass so that his cockhead rubbed over it again and again.

Nope, he didn’t squeal at it. And nope, Dean Winchester absolutely and without a doubt did _not_ make a sound like a dying rhinoceros when someone—was it the cute center fielder? Dean wasn’t sure—leaned down and growled into his ear.

“So easy for it, aren’t ya, pretty boy? Just have to be filled up, get these greedy holes filled? Gonna come on his dick like a good little slut?”

Oh fucking _fuck._ That’s all she wrote, folks. Dean’s whole body was flush with it, shame and arousal and pleasure mixed up into a big old soupy mess of overwhelmed that set every goddamn nerve ending in his body on fire. Before he could even register it was happening, Dean was gone, spilling hot and thick onto the tile floor, damn near choking himself on shortstop cock as he succumbed to the most intense orgasm of his whole damn life.

Nope, not what he expected at all, but that don’t mean he ain’t gonna enjoy the hell out of it. After all, it’s not every day he gets the chance to play ball, if you catch his drift.

Dean was still panting his way through his own aftershocks when Mr. Shortstop pulled out, one hand still on Dean’s head, the other stripping his cock and aiming it for Dean’s face. He came in three spurts that caught in Dean’s lashes, his cheek, and finally on his waiting tongue. Dean leaned into it as someone else’s finger swiped up his cheek, collecting more come, and then fed it to him. He accepted the offering greedily, sucking and licking that finger clean.

Behind him, Mr. Perfect Cock’s rhythm faltered as he careened toward his own climax. With a grunt, he pulled out, and Dean was only vaguely aware of the sound of latex snapping before he felt the splatters on his back, then the warmth of a broad palm sweeping up his spine, rubbing the mess into Dean’s skin, already slick with sweat.

“More.” Dean’s voice was a hoarse whisper as he asked—no, _begged_ —even though he wasn’t sure who he was begging, or what, exactly, he wanted. In that moment, all he knew was he needed more of it, needed it like breathing. Or at least like another cock in his ass.

“Come on,” a gentle voice crooned as the velvet smooth head of a new cock rubbed against Dean’s lower lip, “open up that pretty mouth for me, sweetheart.” And okay, maybe he whimpered a _little_ at that, but it wasn’t because some dude called him sweetheart. Shut up. Well, it wasn’t _all_ because of the sweetheart, at least. Dean just really liked sucking cock, okay? Sue him.

This one was uncut, the head all slick and red where it was peeking out. Dean nibbled and licked at the foreskin, teasing and slow, coaxing more liquid from the slit. He lapped up the pearl of precome beaded at the tip, then suckled at the swollen head of it before swallowing it halfway down. Massaged that thick vein on the underside with his tongue, groaning when another blurt of precome hit his taste buds. This cock’s owner ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, sweet and gentle, and the feather-light tease of it was too close to tender. Too close to _emotions_ , and this was not the time for _feeling_ shit. With a loud slurp, Dean pulled off, just far enough to mouth against the head, all wet and messy. He looked up at the guy through his lashes as he continued to lave at that sensitive little spot on the underside of his cockhead. Dude was almost as tall as Sammy, with dirty blond hair and deep eyes, built like a goddamn brick shithouse.

Dean gave him a wink and an impish little grin. “Don’t hold back on my account, darlin’,” he cajoled, his voice already a husky rumble. “Lemme feel this monster down my throat.” He waggled his eyebrows at Blondie, and then took him down to the root and stayed there, eyes twinkling as he watched the man lose control. Yeah, no way in hell was Dean about to lose a game of deep throat chicken. Fingers curled tight around Dean’s skull as Blondie loosed a guttural moan and began fucking his face in earnest. It was all Dean could do to hold steady as that glorious cock was shoved deep into his throat, over and over again. He let himself let go, get lost in the sheer freedom of it, in being used so thoroughly for someone else’s pleasure. It was a heady thing, a pure goddamn _rush_ like nothing else, and Dean loved it.

He was so caught up in it, in how good it felt to let go, that he barely noticed the rough fingers toying at his hole, the cold squelch of lube pressing deep inside him. Only when the next guy took his place, sheathing himself in a single, interminably slow push, did his brain connect the dots.

_Fuck yeah._

Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, and he hummed in satisfaction at being so filled up, so deliciously fucking _full_ from the cocks impaling him at both ends. The cocks’ owners were moving in harmony already, like a well-oiled fucking machine, and Dean could only imagine how good they must work together on the field because _goddamn._ The dude in his ass was working Dean’s sweet spot like a virtuoso, alternating jabs as he fucked in hard and fast, with slow, teasing drags as he withdrew. It had Dean’s cock fattening up again already, like he was some fucking teenager.

Jesus fucking _Christ._ One especially intense thrust into his ass pushed Dean’s whole body forward, forcing Blondie’s dick even deeper into his throat. Dean gagged, more from the surprise of it than anything, but the next thing he knew, Blondie was pulling out, leaving him a slobbery, drooling mess for just a second, and then painting his face with ribbons of white that catch on Dean’s brows, his nose, his lips. Dean was still licking the sticky mess from the corner of his mouth, desperate to lap it all up, when he bent down to capture Dean’s lips with his own, licking his release out of Dean’s mouth.

“Thanks, handsome,” Blondie whispered in between nips at Dean’s lower lip, “that was great.” With one last kiss to Dean’s forehead, he was gone.

Two men immediately took his place, kinda like that hydra they ganked over near Buffalo that time, only with orgasms and cocks instead of decapitations. It made sense in Dean’s head, shut up. Anyway, Heckle and Jeckyll stepped up to the plate, their uniforms still intact…well, except for where two hard cocks sprang out from their flies.

Licking his lips, Dean gave them the best ‘fuck me’ grin he could manage in between grunts as he greeted them. “Hey fellas, wanna have a nice little sword fight in my mouth?” Heathers was on motel cable last night, and damn Dean loved that flick. Veronica and J.D. could get it.

“Aw, _fuck_.” Heckle groaned as he pushed the head of his cock into Dean’s welcoming mouth. He was shorter than Blondie, in every way, and to be honest, Dean was glad to give his throat a bit of a break. He sucked hard on the head, swirled his tongue around the ridge. As he did, Jeckyll gave himself a few long, slow pulls, then nudged his own dick against Dean’s cheek. Dean leaned into it, nuzzling against that spongy head as it slid along the stubble starting to pepper his skin. He reached up and wrapped his hand around Jeckyll’s shaft, taking over those long, teasing strokes as he took more of Heckle into his mouth.

From…somewhere behind him, Dean thought, though he was fuzzy on details, a voice echoed through the locker room.cc “Get him up on his knees, Max. Give him both hands to work with.” And wasn’t that just a _fantastic_ idea? Dean nodded sloppily as he let himself be pulled and shifted, so that his back was pressed against the sweat-slick front of the dude currently plowing him in to next Thursday.

Strong arms wrapped around his ribcage to hold him up, nice and secure, as he went back to work on Heckle and Jeckyll. He gobbled the length of Jeckyll down all at once, burying his nose in the coarse black curls at the base, then reached to grab Heckle by the shaft, squeezing and pulling that silky smooth skin along the granite-hard flesh beneath it. And all the while, Mr. Whoever the Fuck he was—no, _Max—_ pounded away at his ass, and Dean couldn’t be certain that he hadn’t died and gone to heaven.

Max’s rhythm began to falter as he chased his climax. He pulled Dean back to him, eliciting a frustrated whine from his teammate as he tugged Dean’s mouth away from Jeckyll’s cock. When Dean’s back was flush against his chest, Max sank his teeth into that sensitive spot at the join of Dean’s neck and shoulder to stifle his moan. The sharp sting of it brought tears of pleasure-pain to Dean’s eyes, had him stuttering and grunting as he let his head fall back against Max’s shoulder. Max slid his hands down to grip at Dean’s hips, his fingernails digging ten crescent-shaped lines into Dean’s skin, and with one final thrust, he buried his cock as deep as possible, pulsing impossibly larger as he came.

Soft lips and a gentle tongue replaced the teeth at Dean’s shoulder, laving and soothingthe bite as Max shuddered through the aftershocks of his orgasm. With one last gentle kiss to Dean’s neck, he pulled out and moved away. The sudden exposure to the air of the locker room had the sweat-slick skin on Dean’s back pebbling into goose flesh, the chill of the room a stark contrast to the overheated flush of Dean’s skin. He was suddenly so empty, his hole throbbing and clenching around nothing, his cock achingly hard, as though he hadn’t already come. He whimpered, a breathless little thing, stumbling forward in his desperation to get closer to the owners of the cocks in his hands.

“So needy,” laughed a gruff voice from somewhere in the group of men circled around him, but Dean couldn’t tell exactly who, “sweet little cockslut’s desperate for it, aintcha?”

And, well, _yeah_. Fuck it, fuck that part of him that thought he should feel embarrassed, feel ashamed for wanting what he wanted, because fucking _hell yes_ , he wanted this. It’s why he was here, why he’d followed them in here, offered himself up to be taken, to be used like this. Because this? This was him being used on his own goddamn terms, the way he wanted it. Fuck, no, the way he _needed_ it, and fuck any sonofabitch who judged him for it. Right here, right now, Dean was free. Not Daddy’s blunt instrument, not Sammy’s caretaker. No, right here, Dean was getting exactly what he wanted, and fuck anybody who got in his way.

Dean was hungry for it, for more. So hungry he practically took a nosedive into Heckle and Jeckyll, tugging them closer together so that he could have both cockheads at his mouth at once. He laved at their heads, lapped up the liquid starting to pearl from both of them. Heckle wasn’t very wet, so Dean had to poke the tip of his tongue inside the slit to get a good taste of it, tart and just a little bitter. Jeckyll, though? Jeckyll’s cock was practically drooling as Dean sucked him clean, groaning at the salty tang of him.

He opened up as wide, and took them both into his mouth as deep as he could manage, sucking and swirling his tongue all over them as he jerked them off. Sucking off dudes at once? Yeah, this was definitely something to remember. It was awkward at first, building up a rhythm with his hands as his lips stretched taut around the two of them. But the longer he worked at it, the messier everything got, and wetter is always better when it comes to a dick in your mouth. Or two of ‘em at once.

_Holymotherfuckershitgoddammmn!_

Dean sputtered, gagging on his mouthful as he felt the wet slide of a tongue tracing from his balls to his asshole.

“Watch it, man!” Jeckyll hissed, presumably at the owner of the tongue, as he took a tight grip on the hair at the top of Dean’s scalp. “He’s got _teeth_ , y’know.”

Dean hummed his apology, and flicked the tip of his tongue against Jeckyll’s slit until he felt the man’s hold on his hair relax. He repeated his apology maneuver for Heckle, all the while trying not to burst into a thousand little pieces at the dirty tease of that tongue circling his hole. It was like someone had tripped a switch inside him, so that every lick resonated throughout his whole goddamn body. Dean was trembling, muscles tense and tightening atevery swipe of that sinful tongue.

He was only vaguely aware of voices around him before Heckle and Jeckyll both took their cocks away from his mouth, took over for him since his own hands had stopped moving on their shafts. It didn’t quite register that the keening sound he heard was coming from him, and that was _before_ the man at his ass drove his tongue inside.

Who the fuck could focus on anything when they had a tongue doing _that_?

Dean lost himself, let pleasure wash over him as the man behind him probed him with his tongue, swirled it in circles around his sensitive pucker, teased him with kitten licks and flat swipes, then closed his mouth around Dean’s rim and sucked. It was all so _much._ So new and different and intense that he didn’t notice the semen splattering onto his face as the two men at his head started to come. Groaning, he licked up what his tongue could reach, then greedily licked and sucked the fingers pressing more into his mouth.

When a slick hand wrapped around his cock, Dean screamed, overwhelmed with the pleasure of it all. He came over that tight, hot fist, thick and sticky ribbons of it, and then finally collapsed onto the cold tile floor.

It took a while for his brain to come back online, but when it finally did, he was met by a whole circle of concerned eyes. Eyes that belonged to a motherfucking minor league baseball team.

_Goddamn._

“You doin’ alright there, handsome?” The cute centerfielder rubbed a broad, calloused palm up Dean’s sweaty back as someone else wiped at his ass with a towel. It felt nice.

In his post-orgasmic haze, it took a while for Dean’s eyes to focus, for him to take in the details of his surroundings, for him to do some rough math in his fucked-drunk head.

Dean licked his lips as his gaze landed on a couple of dudes who were still entirely too put together for his liking. “I don’t think everybody’s had a chance at bat.”

He felt a smug little grin tugging at the corner of his mouth at the way several sets of eyes darkened at his words. Careless of the cold tile beneath him, Dean crawled on his hands and knees toward where the pitcher’s cock was pitching an obscene tent in his pants. He nuzzled his face into the impressive bulge and wiggled his ass in invitation to the men surrounding him.

“Y’all don’t think we’re done here yet, do you?”

* * *

Fade to horny black, y'all.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever written, and I make no apologies.
> 
> SPN Kink Bingo Fill: gangbang  
> Tumblr link [here.](https://judithandronicus.tumblr.com/post/644035741411917824/batter-up-stealing-5th-deep-into-the-bench)


End file.
